Scars
by FireStarDragon
Summary: When Sasuke's twenty-year prison sentence is ended after a year served, he is given the chance for a fresh start from the Hokage, Naruto. Despite this, his scars, both mental and physical, remind him of the past, leaving him feeling bound to it. He re-opens old wounds as punishment, drawing blood. Can he find a reason to stop or will he be consumed by it? NaruSasu. Sasuke's POV.
1. Part One: A Change of Fortunes

Author's Note: Hello. Here's my third fanfiction. It's going to be a bit darker than my previous works and it is written in first person point of view, a style that I'm admittedly not too familiar with writing myself. Anyway, please read and review and let me know what you thought about it. If you like it, I'd be more than happy to write another chapter. If not, please provide tips on how I can improve. Let's begin.

_Disclaimer: I am fully aware that I do not own the Naruto series in any way, shape or form. No legal action is required against me._

**Scars **

**Part One: A Change of Fortunes**

The prison door slammed against the stone wall as it was opened roughly. A bento box was thrown in, a quarter of its contents spilling out. The prison guard glared at me.

"Eat, Uchiha." he ordered, folding his arms as he stood in the doorway. From his stance, I knew he would watch me until I finished eating. The problem is with that is I didn't want to eat.

"Why should I?" I asked, sounding like a petulant child as I remained seated on my steel cot, refusing to move.

A vein bulged in the man's forehead, indicating his growing anger towards me. He grit his teeth, "Listen carefully, you treacherous scum. I don't give a damn about you. As far as I'm concerned, you should have been executed for all the shit you've put this village through." he growled at me. "I don't know why, but the Hokage decided to give you a chance and you should be grateful that at least _somebody_ gives a rat's ass about you. Now eat."

I didn't feel like eating, but more than that, I didn't feel like hearing the man speak any more about the Hokage. I slowly raised myself off the cot and picked up the bento box, leaving the rice that had spilled out on the floor. The guard continued to glower at me as I ate slowly, taking my time and no doubtedly angering the man further. I didn't care. So what if he had to stay here twenty minutes more? At least he would get to go home at the end of the day. I still needed nineteen more years in this hellhole.

Or so I thought...

* * *

"Get up, Uchiha!" The prison guard yelled before kicking open the door. Two masked ANBU marched in. Before I could react, I was handcuffed and dragged off my cot.

"Where are you taking me?" I demanded to know, irritated at having been woken up so suddenly.

"Silence!" an ANBU shouted. I flashed my Sharingan angrily and was struck by the female ANBU. Her gloved fist split my lower lip open and I felt blood drip down my chin. "Watch it, Uchiha. If you do that one more time, I'll personally see to it that you lose those eyes of yours."

I glared at her for the threat before repeating my earlier question, "Where are you taking me?"

"The Hokage wants to see you." the woman answered, dragging me through the hallways. The male ANBU signaled for the prison guard to unlock the door to the prison entrance and the bright noon sunlight nearly blinded me. Having been in prison for a year, I wasn't used to the light and needed to walk with my head down for the entire trip, squinting at the ground. As expected, neither ANBU was concerned and the three of us wordlessly continued our walk to the Hokage's office.

When we entered the Hokage's reception area, a familiar face was waiting for me. Arms folded and a stern expression on his face, the Hokage's advisor, Nara Shikamaru, watched me distrustfully. "Uchiha Sasuke, the Hokage will see you now."

Stepping aside, Shikamaru allowed the ANBU and I to enter the office. I couldn't help but notice that the two ANBU had tightened their grip on my arms as I stood before the Hokage's desk. The Hokage himself had his back towards me, gazing out the window and at the village below. At last, he turned around, the sunlight streamed onto him, illuminating his golden hair and bright grin.

"Hey, Sasuke." The Sixth Hokage of Konoha, Uzumaki Naruto, greeted me cheerfully.

"Hn..." was all I said.

The male ANBU to my left elbowed me in the ribs, annoyed with my impertinence towards the village leader. "Greet your Hokage with the respect he deserves." he hissed.

I rolled my eyes in response to his order, but said nothing else. Naruto laughed at my actions, "It's nice to see you haven't changed much, Sasuke." he said, that same grin still on his face.

I remained silent.

As expected, Naruto was not discouraged in the slightest. "Anyway," Naruto said, sitting behind his desk, hands folded together. "The reason why I called you here is because I've decided to let you out of prison early and -"

"What?" the ANBU screeched in alarm near my right ear. She tightened her already strong grip around my arm. "You can't be serious, Hokage-sama! Uchiha needs to locked up for good, not released early from prison!" Her comrade nodded in agreement with her words.

Naruto sighed and held a hand, signaling he didn't want to hear anymore. "That's enough." His blue eyes fell on me, frowning as he saw the trail of dried blood on my split lip. Annoyance darkened his features. "Why did you hurt him? Your orders were just to bring him here, not hurt him."

The female ANBU's voice trembled slightly, "But Hokage-sama, he flashed his Sharingan and I -"

Shaking his head in disappointment, Naruto continued, "My orders were simple enough. I just don't see why you didn't follow them."

"I'm sorry." the woman said, lowering her head in a respectful bow. "It won't happen again."

"It's fine, but can you do me a favor?" Naruto asked, a faintly mischievous glint in his eyes. I knew that look well. The dobe had an idea.

"Anything." the other ANBU replied.

"I want to talk to Sasuke alone." answered Naruto.

"But, Hokage-sama!" she protested while the other ANBU tensed up, clearly not enthused about the idea.

"Don't argue. After all, you did say _anything_." Naruto reminded them, still grinning.

The ANBU exchanged looks and finally released their grip on my arms, leaving my handcuffs still on. I moved my hands, making the chain bounding them together jingle. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

The male ANBU snorted, "No. Hokage-sama only said he wanted to talk to you. He did not say to take off your shackles." With that, both ANBU bowed to Naruto before following orders and promptly leaving the room.

When the door closed, Naruto spoke. "Don't let them get to you, Sasuke. They're not trying to be mean. They're just a little over-protective of the village and me."

"Hn." I replied, not really believing him. I knew they treated me badly because they hated me, plain and simple. Truth be told, I really can't blame them for how they behave. If I had to deal with someone like me, I'd probably act like a jackass too.

"Anyway," Naruto said, "Don't you want to know why you're getting released early?"

"No." I answered, hoping to annoy him. Sure enough, it worked.

Naruto glared, "Doesn't anything make you happy?"

"Nope."

"Whatever." Naruto rolled his eyes before getting back to business, "I decided to have you get out of prison early because I figured that it would be better for you and the village itself. If you're out here being productive, you'll be a more valuable asset to Konoha than you would be sitting on your ass in prison."

"I guess, but what if I don't want to be productive."

"If that's the case, then you'll have to be thrown back in jail. There's no other option."

"I see, but how am I supposed to be productive? The whole village hates me." I reminded him.

Naruto tried to comfort me. "They don't hate you, Sasuke. They're wary, that's all. You've only been back in the village for a year."

"Don't sugar-coat it, dobe." I snapped at him, not hiding my annoyance with his attempts to be nice. "The only reason why I'm here at all is because of you! _I _didn't want to come back, but _you_ had other plans, _Hokage-sama_."

Naruto lowered his head briefly before speaking in a lower tone. He clenched his fists on the desk before meeting my eyes once again. "I didn't know Tsunade-baa-chan would retire and make me Hokage after I brought you back, but you should know that I didn't bring you back to become Hokage. I had other reasons for doing it."

"Like what?" I asked. I still hadn't forgiven Naruto for bringing me back to Konoha. A little over year ago, Naruto found me traveling through a small town near Kumo. Naturally, he asked to come back to Konoha and I said no. After we fought and he won, (barely, I might add) Naruto became the village hero and I was reduced to being considered the living proof of his victory. Shortly before I was sentenced to 20 years behind bars, I found out Naruto was named Hokage... and became engaged to marry Haruno Sakura. I didn't care about that last part, but I was irritated beyond belief that Naruto was actually _benefiting_ from me being incarcerated by becoming Hokage. I firmly believe that the reason why he became Hokage so suddenly is because he brought me, an S-class criminal wanted for murder and treason, back to this damn village to rot in prison.

A sad expression appeared on Naruto's face. He looked away from me, indicating he would not speak. His silence annoyed me further and just as I was about to demand an explanation as to _exactly why_ he brought me back to this hellhole called Konoha, the door opened.

I turned around, ready to give my best death-glare... and was knocked a few steps backward as a pink-headed girl tackled me before hugging me tightly.

"Oh, Sasuke-kun! I've missed you so much!" Sakura exclaimed as she wrapped her arms around my neck.

"Get off of me." I growled at her, feeling the beginning of a headache caused by her shrill voice next to my ear.

To my annoyance, she didn't let me go completely. Instead of holding me so tightly, she loosened her grip from around my neck, but still kept her hands on my shoulders. She smiled at me for a moment before a soft whimper escaped her lips and tears gathered in her eyes, "Sasuke-kun," she murmured, before wiping her eyes and finally letting me go. "I'm sorry for crying, but I'm just so glad you're here."

I didn't say anything, just watched her warily.

Naruto left his desk and put a comforting hand on Sakura's shoulder. He smiled at her, then me, "I'm glad he's back too, Sakura-chan."

Sakura returned the smile at Naruto and patted his hand on her shoulder before giving it a light squeeze in gratitude. Watching them, I didn't believe they were getting married. They acted like friends, not lovers.

"Are you two getting married or what?" I asked them without thinking about it.

My former teammates exchanged looks of surprise before Sakura finally shook her head, "No. We decided to call off the engagement a few months ago."

"Yeah, we're better off as friends." Naruto added.

"Why did you split?" I questioned them. Judging from how they were acting, there was more to the story.

"I already told you. We're better off as friends." Naruto said.

I thought about his response and watched Sakura carefully. She seemed almost relieved at the prospect of not getting married to Naruto, and looking at Naruto, he seemed slightly sad, but pleased that he did not have to marry her. For some reason I can't explain, I felt the slightest glimmer of relief myself finding out they wouldn't marry.

Sakura turned to Naruto, changing the subject, "Naruto, have you told Sasuke-kun the good news about where he'll be living?"

Grinning sheepishly and obviously forgotten about it, Naruto scratched the back of his neck. "Not yet, but I was just about to."

She shot him a disbelieving look before explaining cheerfully, "Well, we've arranged you to have a fully furnished home in the village. It's a bit small, but I think it would be perfect for you, and best of all, you can move in right away. You don't have to pay rent either."

I was surprised, but definitely not happy about the prospect of living in the village. I also couldn't shake the feeling that there were conditions to my supposedly 'perfect' home. As expected, I was correct.

Hesitating for a second, Sakura continued. "In exchange for no rent, you need to work part time for the landlord as well as completing any other tasks you're assigned..."

"What kind of work?" I asked her, glaring.

Naruto answered, "It's nothing, Sasuke. Just different ways to prove yourself useful to the village. You'll be paid too, so just think of it as getting a job and having a normal life."

"Hn." I replied, unable to be enthused about a normal life. Why? I knew I could never have a so-called normal life.


	2. Part Two: Opening the Wounds

Author's Note: Hello. Here is the second part of the story. Thank you to the super readers who added this story to alerts and faves, plus a huge thank you to my reviewers. Thank you kindly! Anyway, please read and review.

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto because Masashi Kishimoto already does.

_**WARNING:**_ _This part contains emotional anguish and acts of self-harm. Reader discretion is advised..._

**Scars**

**Part Two: Opening the Wounds**

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, I wiped away the steam that hid my reflection on the glassy surface. I saw my face, noting the similarities of how I looked as a kid and how I currently look as a 19-year-old. My hair was still the same blue-black shade and my skin was still pale. I did, however, notice one key difference. My eyes. Sure, they were the same color, but they seemed more... _emptier_ somehow than ever before. It was strange, but not entirely unexpected. After all, my life itself is empty. For the past two weeks, I've done nothing but work odd jobs and get dirty looks from the villagers. I'm avoided like I have the bubonic plague, but to tell you the truth, that doesn't particularly bother me. People piss me off. The further they are from me, the better.

Continuing the inspection of my image in the mirror, my gaze fell on the straight pink lines that adorned my wrists. They were the remnants of a hobby I picked up in prison; cutting.

Yes, the supposedly 'emo boy' cuts himself. Big shocker, huh? Of course I'm being sarcastic, but yes, I have cut myself.

Why?

The answer is simple; I was bored. Being in prison is excruciatingly boring and one day, I found a loose scrap of metal attached to the base of my cot. With nothing else to do, I started working to remove it and ended up cutting my finger in the process. Watching the blood fall from my fingertip was interesting to me and for some reason, I wanted see it bleed more. I used the sharp metal fragment to open the wound a bit, drawing more blood. After that, I ran the makeshift blade across my palm, slicing it open and starting a bizarre habit. Whenever I felt bored or when I would think about the circumstances of my incarceration, I would pull out my trusty 'razor' and start carving at my skin. For me, it was a stress reliever. Messy, but effective. I always felt better afterwards even though the injuries hurt and bled. The pain was bearable as long I was careful to avoid cutting myself too deeply.

For the most part, I was able to keep my 'hobby' a secret until I cut my left wrist so badly that it wouldn't stop bleeding nor could I hide it. A prison guard who brought me food that day almost had a panic attack when she saw it. For more shock value, I showed her all the slice marks I had given myself and flashed my Sharingan, startling her even more. She tossed my food up in the air and took off running as if she had just seen a ghost, screaming all the while. Despite the fact that I was losing blood at alarming rate, I couldn't help but laugh at the scene. Of course, the prison warden wasn't happy when he saw what was going on and the prison doctor even turned pale at the bloody scene. I could only imagine what they saw that day; a teenage murderer soaked in his own blood laughing maniacally. After that incident, my cell was inspected thoroughly each day and all potentially sharp objects were kept away from me. With nothing to keep them open, the cuts healed but the evidence of what I had done was still visible in the form of scars.

Scars...

The word danced around in my mind as I continued to stare in the mirror. In addition to my self-inflicted wounds, I couldn't help but notice the others scars on my body. These ones were from my life as a ninja. My battle scars decorated my arms, chest, and back. They served as an eternal reminder of the things I done, the people I've fought, and the lives I've taken... including Itachi's, my own brother and the last member of my family.

Remembering this, I shivered involuntarily as a wave of nausea came over me. I was used to this. Every time I thought about Itachi, I felt like this and knew what it was; guilt. A lingering sense of guilt that has never left me since the day he died. I knew the role I played in his demise and it haunted me, especially the knowledge that when I had spent so many years hating him and striving to surpass him in power, Itachi had spent those same years worrying about me and praying I was safe and happy. Because of what I didn't know about the night of the Uchiha clan massacre, I hated my only brother and wanted nothing more than to see him dead. But now that he was dead and I knew the truth, I wasn't happy. All I felt was this horrid sense of remorse caused by the knowledge that I ended the life of someone who had loved me.

Closing my eyes, I sighed loudly and leaned on the counter near the bathroom sink. I felt sick. Worse than sick. It was as if my guts were being ripped out and tossed in a blender set to puree. I panted as my heart beat painfully in my chest and uncomfortable prickling sensation appeared behind my eyes. I tried to focus on the cold granite beneath my fingers and the tile beneath my bare feet. Anything but this horrendous feeling. I needed a distraction. I didn't care what it was. Anything that would take my mind off of this feeling...

"Sasuke!"

Startled by the sound of someone calling me, I quickly pulled away from the counter, my eyes locked on the bathroom door left ajar. I could hear someone impatiently pounding on the front door, calling me once again. "Hey, Sasuke! Are you in there?"

Recognizing the voice of a certain dobe-turned-Hokage, I sighed in relief, realizing my distraction had just arrived. I shouted back my reply, "Yes, you idiot! Where else would I possibly be?"

"OK, I was just checking!" Naruto shouted back. There was a brief pause before he continued, sounding almost hesitant. "Can you come out for a bit? I want to ask you something."

I was surprised by his tone. It almost seemed like he was nervous or timid... I rolled my eyes at the thought. Naruto was never shy about anything. If he wanted to ask me something, he should just do it now. Why should I go out if I didn't have to? "No." I said loud enough for him to hear.

"Come on, you bastard! It's not going to kill you!" replied Naruto, growing annoyed with me.

I smirked slightly at how easy it was to anger him. After all these years, he was still the same person I remembered; a quick-tempered moron with an odd infatuation with wearing the color orange. Suddenly, a wave of something akin to happiness washed over me. I felt good, although I wasn't sure why. Because of this mood shift, I decided to humor the dobe at my doorstep. "I'll be right there. Just give me a minute to get dressed." I said loudly.

"Hurry up!" he answered back happily.

I rolled my eyes before leaving the small bathroom and crossing the hall to my small bedroom. I pushed open the door and glanced around at the plain little room. I'm not a decorating type of person so, naturally, I had few furnishings in my room. Aside from a nightstand and a table lamp, a neatly-made bed sat in the corner next to a decently sized wardrobe made of solid oak. I strode over to the wardrobe and opened it, the hinged door creaking lightly. Since I was already wearing a pair of black pants that I had put on after my shower, all I needed was a shirt. I pulled out a grey long-sleeved one with an Uchiha crest on the back and pulled it over my head, adjusting the sleeves. I was careful to make sure the sleeves hid my scars. The last thing I needed was for Naruto to see them. Knowing him, he would make a huge irritating fuss over them even though they weren't a big deal to me.

Once I finished dressing, I left my room and headed towards the living room. It was even barer than the bedroom. All I had was an armchair, bookcase with several books and a lamp, all bought second-hand with my meager salary. I didn't need any more than that, so why bother getting anything else?

"Sasuke! Did you get lost?" Naruto asked just before I reached the door. I opened it, greeting him with a glare. "Only a complete moron would get lost in a house this small." I said, closing the door behind me and locking it.

Naruto grinned broadly at me. "Don't you want to know what I'm going to ask you?"

"No."

Naruto wasn't fazed by my lack of disinterest. He continued blithely, "Anyway, I was wondering if you'd like to grab a bowl of ramen with me. I know you don't like it that much, but I figured it could be a nice treat. What do you say?"

I said nothing, only narrowed my eyes slightly.

"It's my treat." He added when I didn't respond.

I shrugged, "Whatever." As long as I didn't have to pay for his potentially ridiculously high ramen bill, I didn't care.

I expected him to get peeved over my lack of enthusiasm for his beloved ramen, but instead his grin widened. "Great! Let's go!" With that, he grabbed my arm and took off running towards Ichiraku, dragging me along with him.

* * *

_**Ten Hours Later...**_

"Well, that was fun. Don't you think so, Sasuke?" Naruto asked me as we arrived at my doorstep that night around midnight.

"Hn... I guess." I replied, fishing my house keys out of my pocket to unlock the door.

"I guess?" Naruto repeated in disbelief. "What kind of answer is that?"

I pushed the door open, "The kind I usually say."

Naruto frowned, "You know, it wouldn't kill you to be a little nicer."

"Maybe not, but why should I take the risk by trying?" I replied with a smirk, hoping to aggravate him a little.

Instead, Naruto grinned at me, "It's nice to see you haven't changed much after all this time. I'm glad."

"Hn." I replied simply, realizing that I felt the same as him.

Naruto shifted on the doorstep, "So, anyway, I guess I should go now. It's getting kinda late and I have a meeting with the council tomorrow at eight." He sighed, "I hate those meetings. They're so boring. That and all the paperwork I'll have to do after..."

"Well, you'd better get going then. I highly doubt the council members will appreciate you falling asleep during the meeting."

Stifling a yawn, Naruto nodded, "Yeah. They got mad the last time I did that." He turned away from me, but not before grinning widely at me once again. "Good night, Sasuke. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

I waved him off, "Later, dobe."

Naruto waved back and started walking away from me. I watched him for a few seconds before I entered my darkened house. Once inside, I closed the door and slowly felt my way to the lamp, switching it on. I plopped myself down in my single armchair, reflecting on the day's events.

After Naruto and I arrived at Ichiraku's, Sakura and Yamanaka Ino passed by and said hello. Naruto asked them if they wanted to join us and the girls accepted his invitation. Sakura was friendly towards me, but Ino kept her distance from me at first. She seemed uncomfortable around me and spent most of her time talking to Sakura and, to my surprise, flirting with Naruto. Naruto was oblivious to her advances and he was always sure to try to include me in their conversations. After an hour or so, Ino finally did start warming up to me a bit, and to my relief, didn't flirt with me. Just Naruto. In all honesty, I was surprised by that. When I was younger, Ino used to flirt with me shamelessly and would ignore Naruto. Today, the opposite was true. It was interesting, to say the least.

After the meal, Ino and Sakura thanked Naruto before saying bye. I wanted to go home and told him so, but Naruto, being the dobe that he is, didn't get the hint. Instead, he dragged me all over Konoha to meet with everyone that I used to know. I didn't want to, but it's difficult to stop a ramen-fueled, hyperactive Hokage who had his mind firmly set on something.

For the most part, the impromptu reunions went moderately well. Hatake Kakashi greeted me as if he was still my sensei and treated me the same way he did when I was a kid. The other people I had known during my childhood acted differently. They behaved oddly around me. It was as if they didn't know how to act around a former Konoha shinobi turned missing nin, turned wanted criminal, turned prisoner, and finally freed prisoner given a second chance. But awkwardness aside, the day had been decently spent, and for the first time in a long time, I felt good about being in Konoha. In fact, I felt good in general, and because of that, I was relaxed and it wasn't long before I nodded off on that armchair, starting to believe I could have a normal life in Konoha.

* * *

At about 4 in the morning, I awoke with a start. My neck was sore from sleeping upright and I just had a very morbid dream. I had seen bits and pieces of all the battles I fought and the blood I had shed. All the images were blended together to form a gruesome collage of my past. The worst part of the dream was the fact that no matter whom it was that I fought, they always said the same thing, "With everything you've done, you don't deserve to be happy."

I will admit that I have heard worse things told to me, but the reason why this bothered me enough to wake me up was the fact that they said it with such a grave conviction. Even after I won the battles, the words of my opponents continued to echo in my head. Even now, as I slowly rose from the armchair, I could hear them. I tried to ignore the words as I flipped off the lamp that I had left on, leaving me in the darkness. I took a deep breath and exhaled, focusing on the silence in my house.

_There's no one here except me. _I thought, hearing nothing but my own intake of breath. It was enough to calm me and I made my way to the bathroom.

I felt for the door to the bathroom and pushed it open wide enough to slip inside. I flicked on the light switch before facing the sink and turning on the tap. The clear water flowed freely and I lowered my head over the sink basin to wash my face, closing my eyes. Once I started splashing water over my skin, I began to forget about my dream. The water was warm and even comforting in a sense.

Warmth and comfort…

For a split second, an image of Naruto entered my mind, wearing his brightest grin. It was the same look he had on his face right before he and I took off to get ramen. I don't know why he was so happy for something so simple. Even though it didn't make complete sense to me, it was still nice to be a part of that moment of his happiness.

Realizing my thoughts were straying in an odd direction, I turned off the water and reached for a hand towel I knew to be nearby. Even with my eyes closed, I found it and drew it towards me to dry off my face. I rubbed at my eyes for a few seconds before glancing in the mirror.

I dropped the towel and gasped, my sharp intake of breath too loud in the near-silent room. Without thinking about it, I curled the fingers of my right hand into a fist and launched it into the reflective surface, shattering the glass into dozens of razor-sharp shards that flew into the sink basin and broke against the counter and floor. I drew away in horror, backing up against the wall until I could go no further. I slid down the wall, clutching my now-bloody hand. But the injury is not what bothered me.

In the mirror, I did not see my reflection. I saw Itachi's. My dead brother's face was peering back at me sadly, as though I had done something that had severely disappointed him in some way. I knew I had only been seeing things but the question refused to go away. What had I done?

Forgetting the pain of my bloody knuckles, I thought about my day and how I had spent it. It hadn't been anything bad, right? Just spending it with Naruto, then I had fallen asleep… happily.

My mind reeled from the revelation. That was it; I had been happy to be in Konoha… and I didn't deserve any of it. I knew I didn't. How could I forget everything that I've done these past years? I shouldn't have been allowed to forget, even for a minute, and Itachi had simply been reminding me of that fact.

I needed to do something that would serve as a reminder of my past that would never go away…

My eyes fell on the broken glass that was scattered on the floor. I picked up the largest shard and examined it. The piece was about six inches long with a flat base that tapered off into a needle-sharp point. It was perfect for what I had decided to do.

I set the glass shard onto my lap and pulled up the long sleeves of my shirt. My bleeding right hand trembled from pain, but I ignored it. I transferred the piece of glass to my undamaged left hand and gripped it tightly, the jagged edges cutting into my palm slightly. I took a deep breath, mentally preparing myself for what I was about to do.

Slowly, I brought the make-shift razor across my skin of my right wrist. A line of blood appeared at the surface. I applied more pressure and dragged the glass across the old scars on my skin, the flesh splitting easily, once again opening the wounds.


	3. Part Three: Blood and Truth

Author's Note: Hello, there. Here is part three if the story, but before we start, please allow me to send my heart-felt thanks to my reviewers and all the wonderful readers who added this story to alerts and faves. It is very encouraging, so thanks for your support. I really appreciate it.

Anyway, please read and review. This part was particularly difficult to write and once you finish reading it, I think you'll see why. Okay, that's enough from me. Let's continue.

_Disclaimer:_ I don't own Naruto. That's why I write fanfictions instead.

_**WARNING:**_ _This chapter contains strong amounts of blood and acts of intentional self-harm. Reader discretion is strongly advised... _

**Scars**

**Part Three: Blood and Truth**

Blood.

I'd seen so much of it in my life so far. I remember when I was about four years old and I had fallen down and scraped my knee. I immediately started to cry from the pain, but when I saw the red liquid dripping down my skin, I began to panic. Luckily for me, my mother was nearby and she carried me home. She spoke soothingly to me while she cleaned the cut and wrapped it with a bandage. Once the wound was covered, it didn't bother me anymore and I forgot all about the blood that had been dripping out.

A few short years later, I also faced the sight of blood. I can clearly remember the sight of my butchered mother and father on the wooden floor of my childhood home, blood pouring out of the fatal wounds that had killed them. I was scared out of my mind at the sight, but what really bothered me was _who_ had slaughtered them. Itachi, my beloved older brother. From there, my memory gets a little hazy, but even after all these years, the blood at the scene of carnage still remains fresh in my mind.

It's as fresh as the blood that is now dripping down my wrists, the crimson trails staining my skin before falling to the floor like a red rainfall. Just like the rain, small puddles were beginning to form steadily, but it wasn't enough for me. I wanted to see bigger puddles.

I set aside the piece of glass that was my cutting instrument of choice before pulling my shirt over up my head and dropping it to the tile floor. I retrieved my shard of glass and stood in front of the mirror, noting the locations of old battle scars on my chest and upper arms. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for more pain and brought the glass across the lines of previously healed injuries, bringing them back to bloody, stinging vitality.

I carved a trail from the top of my left arm to my elbow, following what remained of what was once a surprise sword slash I had taken from an opponent whom I had fought about a year ago. Briefly, I remembered the face of that man when I had turned my own blade on him. His expression was priceless; it had gone from smug arrogance to sheer terror in not even two seconds flat. He had died with that look of unmistakable fear permanently affixed to his face when I struck him down. I knew that I had caused that expression to appear and dug my shard into my arm once more, this time twisting it to deepen the incision into the already-lacerated skin.

I think I may have hit a nerve because after that, my arm began to tremble slightly. I took this as a sign to stop for now and dropped the glass on the floor. It broke as expected, blood splattering off the red-coated surface. I looked down, noticing the puddles had grown significantly larger. A grim satisfaction gripped me and I smirked involuntarily, pleased at the progress I had made.

* * *

_**One Month Later...**_

I wrapped the clean white gauze around my wrist with practiced ease, covering the still-raw lines I had gouged into my skin mere hours ago. Once I finished, I slipped on a black long-sleeved shirt. The sleeves hid the bandages well, as they always have since I began regularly cutting myself.

A shrill beep brought my gaze to the bedside table in my room. The alarm clock trilled loudly, reminding that I needed to leave soon. I shut the clock off and proceeded to finish my daily routine of getting ready for the day. It was a morning routine that was always the same; wake up, shower, put on clean bandages to wrap up the previous day's cuts, clean up any leftover blood from whatever surface it may be on, make sure nothing seemed out of the ordinary with me, and then leave the house for a job or low-level mission or whatever else that required my attention.

I scooped a pile of soiled gauze bandages off the floor, not at all fazed by the dried blood that discolored them. I bunched up the cloth and wrapped it in paper towels before stuffing the bundle into the bottom of the kitchen trash can. I made sure everything was buried deeply enough in the trash so it wouldn't be noticed by anyone stopping by. I don't like having visitors and wouldn't invite anyone over purposely, but lately, Sakura and Naruto have been coming around a lot. I see them both every day now. Oddly enough, they aren't so bad to deal with, even if they are prone to be annoying on occasion.

Once the bandages were properly disposed of, I prepared to leave the house. Today, I had to go on a mission with Naruto and Sakura. It was a very low-level mission and I didn't see the need for them to accompany me, but they insisted on it. Since I really wasn't in a position to defy orders, I had no choice but to allow their company.

* * *

"Wow... this really does bring back memories!" Sakura said happily, flashing a smile my way. I tried in vain to return the expression, but only managed a "Hn." She seemed to accept this and turned to Naruto, who grimaced while a fat brown cat wearing a red bow tied around its neck struggled angrily against his hold.

"Meow!" the cat said, trying to whack Naruto in the face with a clawed paw.

Naruto's frown deepened and he held the animal at arm's length, keeping its dangerous little paws from reaching his skin. It opened its mouth and gave an indignant hiss, clearly unhappy about being caught and unable to claw the face of the person who had done the actual capturing.

"If you mean _bad _memories, Sakura-chan, then yeah, it does bring back memories." Naruto said, glaring at the feline. The cat hissed again, kicking its hind feet and failing to reach Naruto.

"Why do I always have to be the one that carries this cat?" Naruto asked as we walked back to the house of the cat's owner.

"You caught it, you hold it." I said simply.

Sakura giggled, "Makes sense to me."

Naruto was unconvinced, "That's a dumb reason, Sasuke."

"It is not dumb, usuratonkachi. The only thing that's dumb around here is you."

"I'm not dumb! You're just a lazy bastard who won't get his hands dirty during a mission," Naruto countered.

I shrugged, "Can you blame me? Who knows where that cat has been? It could have fleas or ticks. Maybe even both."

"Fleas _and_ ticks?!" Naruto repeated, alarmed.

"Yup," I said casually. "You know, those parasitic little bloodsuckers that latch onto your skin. They could be on you right now and you might not even know it..." I was just kidding about the flea thing and assumed Naruto knew that too. As it turned out, he didn't.

The next thing I knew, Naruto uttered a startled squeak before he launched the cat straight up into the air. It screamed and squirmed as it flew, rotating its body as it gained altitude. When it reached the maximum height of its launch, it spun around and plummeted back down towards us, performing several somersaults on its descent.

Without thinking about it, I pushed Naruto out of the way, preparing to catch the pet myself. I timed its fall and at the last second, jumped out with my arms spread open and caught the cat. Its eyes were wide and fearful, but otherwise appeared unharmed. When it met my eyes, it grew angry once again and spun around, claws extended. I winced as the ungrateful animal hooked its nails into the palm of my left hand, digging deeply and hissing angrily.

Naruto gasped and grabbed the cat by the scruff of its neck. It thrashed in his hold, limbs flailing. "Are you okay, Sasuke?"

I grit my teeth, holding my smarting hand, "Naruto, you idiot! What the hell is wrong with you?!"

"I'm sorry, Sasuke! I didn't mean to -" Naruto began, but was cut off by Sakura. She punched him on the arm before rushing over to me. Naruto didn't say anything about the attack. He was too busy trying to calm down the furious cat.

"Sasuke-kun, you're bleeding," Sakura cried, spotting a drop of blood falling from my palm. She tried to reach for my hand, "Let me see it."

Just as her hand touched mine, I pulled away back as though shocked with electricity, "No!" I told her sharply, startling both her and Naruto, who now looked at me with concern. Even the cat stopped struggling. Its eyes seemed to be fixed on me, almost as though waiting to see what would happen next.

"What's wrong, Sasuke-kun?" Sakura asked, visibly worried.

"Nothing. It's fine, Sakura." I said softly to her, all eyes on me. Her own green eyes were wide with uncertainty. I continued, realizing that I needed to say more, "Sakura, you know that I'm not somebody who likes to be touched."

"I know the prison doctors weren't the gentlest people around when it comes to treating their patients," Sakura said slowly, her gaze traveling from my hand to my face, "but please, Sasuke-kun, don't forget that I'm your friend. I wouldn't ever intentionally hurt you."

"We just want to help you," Naruto added, the cat tucked under one arm. The cat remained quiet, just watching me.

I brought my gaze from Sakura to Naruto's eyes, wondering why he had said that. Our eyes met only briefly before he looked away. He seemed ashamed, but of what, I couldn't tell.

_About the cat or something else? _I mused, still eyeing him.

"Sasuke-kun? Are you sure you're all right?"

I brought my attention back to Sakura. "Yes, I'm fine."

"Can I look at the injury?"

I sighed, and held out my hand to her, palm up. She gingerly took it, cradling the back of my hand as she inspected the scratches from the cat. They were four small, hook-shaped indentations in the center of my palm. Despite being small, they hurt more than I thought they would as they bled steadily.

Sakura prodded the area gently with her thumb, making me wince. "They're pretty deep. If I had to guess, I'd say about one-fourth of an inch in depth."

"Hn." A fourth of an inch? Well, that explained the stinging. Stupid cat.

"Do you want me to heal them? It won't take long."

I hesitated as Sakura pushed my sleeve down a little, nearly uncovering the bandages around my wrist. "It's not that bad. It'll heal on its own," I said. The last thing I needed was her to see the cuts. Nobody needed to see them.

"It would be better if I did, though. You don't want to let something like that become infected." Sakura said gently, still holding my hand.

"Do whatever you want," I said nonchalantly, successfully masking my fear about her discovering my little 'habit'. I knew it would be suspicious if I kept refusing her help, especially after that earlier little outburst when she first tried to look at the cat's scratches.

Sakura smiled at me and her left hand began to glow green. She held the back of my injured hand with her right hand and brought her left one over mine, the green glow engulfing the scratches. The stinging soon subsided and I could feel the indentations in my palm mend. I felt much better, but my relief didn't last long.

On my left wrist, the cuts I had made were also being healed by Sakura's chakra. I realized there was a decent chance that she could sense where her chakra was going, and if she pulled up my sleeves to see...

"That's enough, Sakura." I said, pulling away from her rather abruptly. She opened her mouth as though to question me, but I continued, "We still have to complete the mission and we've already wasted too much time here already."

"Oh, okay." The green glow vanished as she accepted my sound reasoning, but Sakura looked like she wanted to say more.

"But thank you for your help. I really appreciate it." I told her quickly, and for good measure, I even smiled at her.

"Um... well, you're welcome, Sasuke-kun." She blushed and looked at the ground. "I'm just glad I could help you."

"So am I." I said to her, hoping she would forget about what she had wanted to say after I pulled away. I guess it worked because she just giggled in response.

"All right. Let's get this cat home!" Naruto exclaimed, leading the way. Sakura followed him, still blushing faintly. For a moment, I just stood there, my once-racing heart slowing down significantly as the danger of my secret being found out passed. I allowed myself a sigh of relief, realizing I had just dodged a bullet. It seemed like nobody was aware of the cuts, just like I had hoped for. I had every intention to keep it like that.

* * *

Late that evening, I was at home, working out the day's stresses on my body. Four long slices decorated my torso and the inside of my upper arm. For a change, I wasn't using a shard of glass to cut myself. Instead, I was using a razor blade from a box cutter that I had bought earlier. It was simple to remove the blade from its casing and after a quick sharpening, it was more than ready for its new purpose. I immediately set it to work and it didn't take long before it was covered in blood, just like my arm and a section of the floor I was seated on. I suppose the scene looked rather gruesome, but I don't do this for the sake of aesthetics. I do it so I can feel better about being able to carry on with my life in Konoha. If I always have the wounds to remind me, then I can't forget all the things I've done in the past and act like everything's okay when it's not.

I can't act like I'm okay when I'm not, either. At least, not all the time. When you spend each and every day pretending like you're just fine and dandy, it begins to wear you out, and at the end of each day, you just need something, anything to make you feel better. This is my outlet. I realize it may not be the most logical thing in the world to do, but my life isn't logical. In fact, it just doesn't make sense to me at all.

Blood, injuries, and battle... these things I do understand. But life? No. It has no rhyme or reason, no pattern or explicitly stated meaning. It seems that everybody is supposed to find their own path in life, but what if the path you have chosen is considered to be dark? What if it starts out normal then changes in the blink of an eye, making you decide that you can't - shouldn't - have a supposedly 'normal' existence? Then what do you do?

These are the questions I haven't found the answers to yet. Maybe I will find them, or maybe not. It's hard to say for sure, but in the meantime, I will continue doing something that _does_ make sense to me; cutting.

* * *

"Sasuke-kun! What's going on?!"

I heard the ear-splitting shriek before I saw the person who made it. I groggily opened my eyes and stiffly got into a sitting position on the living room floor, my blood now tacky on my clothes and skin. I felt light-headed and dizzy, but there was no mistaking the immense fear and sadness in Sakura's green eyes as she stared at me from the threshold of the open front door.

"Sasuke-kun, why are you doing this to yourself?" she cried, tears streaking down her face as she dropped something on the floor. My eyes traveled to the dropped item, a plate of onigiri that splattered rice on impact with the unforgiving wooden floor.

My mind was hazy from blood loss but I still found the energy to muster a glare at her. "Why are you here? I didn't let you in."

She raced toward me, tears falling with every step. "I came over to see if you wanted any onigiri. I've been calling you for the past forty minutes, but you didn't respond!" Her lower lip trembled before a loud sob escaped, "I got worried, so I used the spare key to get in to see if you were okay -"

"Well, I'm fine! Can't you see that?" I asked as indignantly as possible.

"You're not!" Sakura cried. "You were passed out in a puddle of blood holding a box cutter blade! How is that fine?!"

Slowly, her words registered in my mind. I had actually passed out? That explained the grogginess. I flexed my stiff fingers that were still wrapped around the blade to try and get some circulation going again before my eyes focused on a deep gash on my left wrist, blood still leaking out of the cut veins. I knew I should have been more freaked out about this, but for some reason, I felt nothing. I was numb to my wounds... and Sakura's words.

"It's none of your business!" I snapped at her as she knelt in front of me. "Just get the hell out of here!"

"It is my business," Sakura replied, wiping her eyes.

"And why would you think that?" I demanded, annoyed with how sure she sounded.

For a moment, Sakura was silent, staring at me. A flash of determination flickered across her face, conflicting with the tears that still fell, "It's my business because I love you, Sasuke-kun."

I just stared at her. This wasn't the first time I had heard her say those words to me, but I was still surprised. When Sakura had first told me all those years ago when she caught me as I was trying to defect from Konoha, I was surprised too, but ultimately felt that Sakura didn't know what she was talking about. Now, here she was, telling me again.

I opened my mouth to speak but Sakura cut me off, smacking the box cutter blade of my hand and sending it clattering several feet away. Before I could react, she threw her arms firmly around my neck, tightly hugging my bloody form to her body. "I love you so much, Sasuke-kun," she said, her voice hardly more than a sob. I could feel her tears dripping on my neck and sliding down as she spoke. "That's why I couldn't marry Naruto." She drew back, only enough to look me in the eyes as she awaited my response.

"Naruto... what did he say when you told him this?" I asked my voice suddenly hoarse.

Sakura shook her head, "Nothing, really. He was all right with it. Do you want to know why?"

I nodded, not knowing what else to do or what to say.

"It's because he didn't really love me either," Sakura whispered, "Naruto loved you more."

"W-what?" I stammered, unable to believe her. "You must be lying..."

"I'm not!" she said, her voice rising slightly, "It's the truth. Naruto and I didn't get married because we both love you, Sasuke-kun."

"No, no, no!" I snapped at her, pushing her away roughly. "Naruto doesn't love me! There's no way that's even possible!" Even as I spoke, I couldn't ignore a strange sense of doubt at my own words. Briefly, I wondered if it was possible for Naruto to love me...

"That doesn't matter now!" Sakura said, interrupting my train of thought. "Right now, you need to get help, Sasuke-kun. You can't keep cutting yourself like this!" She gestured to the blood on the floor and the wounds on my body. "Please, Sasuke-kun, let me take you to the hospital. There are people who can help you -"

"I don't need anyone's help! I'm fine," I snarled defiantly at her. I could see the pity in her eyes and it angered me. I didn't want or need to be pitied by anyone. I didn't care who they were or how they claimed to feel about me. Pity was pity, no matter who expressed it.

"Sasuke-kun, please!" Sakura cried loudly, falling to her knees. "Please let me help you."

"I don't need your help."

"But you do, so much..." She paused for a moment, staring at me. "I would do anything for you to stop hurting yourself. I would give you anything you wanted." Suddenly, she leaned forward and brought her lips to mine, kissing me. I froze at the contact, stunned by her actions.

When I didn't react, she pulled away, disappointment visible on her face. "I really would do anything for you. Anything to make you feel better."

I heard the sincerity in her voice and saw it in her eyes. I didn't know what to say. Instead, I contemplated her offer, realizing that if I wanted to, I could make her do anything I wanted. If I wanted to have someone killed, she would do it. If I asked her to help me destroy Konoha, she would find a way to assist me.

I don't know how long I sat there considering her offer. Perhaps a few minutes. I don't know, but after a while, my thoughts strayed in a different direction. Sakura herself. I studied her carefully, my eyes traveling over her body slowly, making note of any scars. I saw none and it helped me decide how I should respond to her offer.

"No, Sakura." I finally answered her.

"Why?"

"Just look at you!" I pointed to her clear, undamaged skin. "You can't help me because you don't understand anything about me. You don't have any scars! You're not like me at all!"

Quickly, I glanced at the discarded box cutter blade and crawled over to it, my previous wounds burning with each movement. I didn't care. It seemed so unimportant compared to what I wanted to do next. My fingers wrapped firmly round the blade and I brought it over my leg, allowing it to hover mere centimeters away.

At last, Sakura understood what I intended to do. She tried to stop me, but I resisted her and plunged the sharpened steel into my thigh, digging deeply enough to cut my femoral artery. I ripped out the blade and blood began to pour out, flowing unhindered as it escaped the confines of my body.

A wave of dizziness hit me before I was able to cut the artery in my opposite leg. My vision began to blur and everything began to darken. I closed my eyes and heard Sakura scream in terror, but it sounded like she was getting farther and farther away from me.

I didn't see or hear anything else before the blackness enfolded me as I drifted off into unconsciousness, perhaps never to return. It didn't matter to me. After all, I don't have a reason to return.


	4. Part Four: The Reason to Heal

Author's Note: Hey. Part four is finally ready for viewing, but first allow me to thank the wonderful readers who've added this story to alerts, faves and reviewed. Thanks so much! I really mean that. You guys are just so wonderful!

Anywho, I will once again ask for you to read and review. This story has more angst than what I'm used to working with, so I want to know what you've thought about it thus far, especially since this chapter turned out different than what I had originally thought it would be. Let's proceed.

_Disclaimer:_ As per my standard disclaimer, I will say that I do not own Naruto because I don't.

**_WARNING:_**_ This chapter contains scenes of violent self-harm, foul language, and emotional anguish. Reader discretion is strongly advised… _

**Scars  
**

**Part Four: The Reason to Heal**

I awoke with a start, heart pounding in my chest. I cast my gaze around and saw clean white walls in a room that smelled strongly of disinfectant. I moved to cover my nose to block out the scent, but my wrists were tightly bound to metal railings on either side of me. They were also completely covered in bandages, as white as the sheets that surrounded me in the little hospital bed I was confined to.

I struggled in vain to escape, my body feeling too heavy to properly move. I felt so sluggish and weak. It was as though my muscles had been reduced to pudding. I wondered why this happened, but then noticed the IV pole to the left of me. A pouch of clear liquid labeled with a name I had never heard of was suspended from the top of the pole, which was attached to a small plastic tube that was in turn taped to the top of my left hand, securely wrapped up with gauze. It seemed like I was on some kind of sedative drip.

Briefly, I wondered why the doctor or whoever else was in charge wanted me on sedatives. Did the hospital staff think I was some kind of crazy person who was likely to snap and attack someone?

_Maybe,_ I thought with a slight frown. _I am, after all, a former criminal. There's no denying that. Maybe they think I'm criminally insane. _

Even if this theory was true, I still didn't like it. I mean, who wants to be considered a nutcase? I knew without a doubt that I wasn't one, but why did everyone else seem to think so? Not only that, but why the hell am I here anyway? I definitely don't want to be here but it's more than obvious that I can't just waltz right out of here whenever I feel like it.

I sighed, "If only I could get thrown out..."

As soon the words left my lips, a plan formed. _Well, if they want a nutcase, they'll get a nutcase,  
_I thought, a small smirk pulling at the corners of my mouth. _I'll be the nuttiest nutcase anyone ever saw.  
_

Once I had decided on this course of action, I felt strangely good. Lightheaded, but in a good way. My thoughts slowed to a crawl and my mind began to drift away. Within seconds, I felt like sleeping more. My last thought before sleep claimed my was this:_ How much more nutty can a nutcase get?  
_

And of course, the small part of my brain that wasn't being affected by the sedative had this to say: _Damn, this is some strong stuff. No wonder why they gave it to me._

* * *

"Uchiha Sasuke," a small voice called me.

I opened my eyes slowly, blinking against the bright fluorescent light bulbs that were above my head. When my vision cleared, I saw who it was that had called me. A dark-haired nurse wearing glasses and holding a clipboard was standing near the bed. When she noticed I was awake, she attempted to smile at me in a friendly way, but it was obvious that she was scared of me.

I wondered why for a few seconds until I remembered that I was probably labeled a deranged lunatic somewhere in my charts. I suppose that is a valid reason to be afraid of someone.

"Yes?" I asked her, my voice hardly more than a whisper and rusty with disuse.

"I'm your nurse for today," she said. "I'm going to change your bandages right now. Is that okay?"

"That's fine," I answered. In the back of my mind, I knew this was the best opportunity to really showcase my supposed 'insanity'.

She seemed relieved that I said yes and put down her clipboard on a nearby counter next to a metal tray of still-sealed bandages. She brought the tray over to my bed and set it down on a folding table to the right of me.

"Are you ready?" the nurse asked.

I nodded. She picked up a pair of scissors and began to cut away the restraints that held my arm in place. A thick layer of gauze was also cut away and the nurse gasped in surprise. I thought this was a bit unprofessional of her, but her reaction caused me to glance at the full extent of my injuries... and I gasped too.

On my right arm, a thick track of raw flesh was visible starting from my elbow to my wrist. Slashes of varying sizes and depths were crusted over with scabs and dried blood. The largest and deepest slash was held closed with a trail of metal sutures tied with little knots on the top. Even to me, they seemed painful to look at. It made me wonder why I didn't really feel them, though. They were just there, looking unpleasant to the world around them.

"I-I need to disinfect those," the nurse said a bit shakily. She unpeeled a package of gauze and removed the small clean squares from the plastic covering. She poured a small amount of anti-bacterial liquid onto a pad and held it over the smallest of the gashes, hesitating. "It might burn a little..."

I just shrugged my free shoulder, "Whatever."

She seemed unsure, but began to blot at the injuries. As she had warned, it did sting. Small amounts of blood seeped out of wounds that were trying to close. I thought she was making things worse than they already were, but I soon saw the need for it. Underneath the clots and smears of dried blood, a slightly greenish yellow crust appeared on the incisions of raw flesh. Carefully, she poured some hydrogen peroxide over them. The clear liquid began to foam on contact with the wounds.

I blinked, surprised. "They're infected?"

She didn't look at me, only prepared more clean gauze, "Yes, I'm afraid so. But just a little." She then tried to smile in a reassuring way and pointed to the sutures, "This is the more injured area. Fortunately, it isn't infected." The nurse traced a line around the metal ties with a gloved finger, "See? No swelling and minimal redness. The only thing you need to worry about is if they somehow get removed. Then not only will the injury reopen, but all the skin being bound together will rip apart."

"Hn." I found that tidbit of information useful.

The nurse glanced at me briefly before she resumed cleaning the cuts. I looked away, trying to ignore the burning of anti-septic. When she was done, she tossed the old bandages and gauze away before grabbing more supplies out of the cabinet. The nurse then moved the folding table to my left side. I closed my eyes as she repeated the disinfecting procedure on my left arm. I felt the bandages being cut away and once again, I heard a gasp.

This time, I didn't look. I knew without a doubt this arm was in far worse shape. Simply having the injuries exposed to air made them smart uncontrollably. When the nurse began changing the dressings and removing the dried blood, it felt like an open flame burned on my skin. It made my arm tremble, causing my fingers to twitch involuntarily in response.

The nurse seemed to notice, "Are you okay?"

I nodded, eyes still closed, "Yes."

After another pause, she finally asked something I thought she didn't have the guts to ask, "What happened to you? How did you get in such bad shape?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yes."

"Are you absoulutely sure?"

"Y-yes."

I opened both eyes, meeting her gaze. Fear flickered in her brown eyes as I spoke, "I did it all myself..."

Her mouth opened in a startled way, but no sound came out. She gaped like a fish for several moments, clean gauze and anti-septic still held in her hands. "B-but... w-why?"

I smirked almost predatorily at her. "Because I wanted to."

Without warning, I shoved away the folding table from my bedside. It flipped over and caught the nurse, smacking her and making her lose her balance and fall. Medical supplies flew through the air and fell unceremoniously on the tile. She sat up, terror in her eyes. "What are you - "

She didn't finish her sentence. Instead, she screamed, her shriek echoing loudly in the small room.

Just as she had begun to speak, I had brought my sutured right arm to my mouth. I got the small suture ties between my front teeth and whipped my head back sharply, yanking the metal stitches out. Warm blood splashed out like a waterfall. I ripped again, tearing away more stitches and forcefully opened the wounds. My senses were flooded with pain, but I ignored it. There was still more to do.

The taste of copper and salt filled my mouth, blood dripping down my chin. Small bits of metal poked my tongue as I lined them up in a more orderly way.

The nurse grabbed a hypodermic needle and rushed at me with it, aiming for my sheet-covered thigh. Just as she approached, I spit the sutures I had kept in my mouth at her face. Bloody saliva droplets clung to her as the little projectiles bounced off of her like a swarm of angry bees. She dropped the needle and screamed again, her hands flying to her face against the attack.

Once the sutures were spent, I spit out more of my own blood at the nurse, earning another terrified squeal. With a swift jerk, I ripped my left hand away from the IV it was connected to. The needle slid out of my hand and was left dangling from the IV pole. I heard a ferocious pounding on the door as I reached out and snatched the slim, sharp piece of metal with my right hand. I could barely grip the needle but was determined to see my little plan out to the end.

I finally lined the needle up over my left arm, giving it a cursory glance. Just as I suspected, there was a lot of damage to the arm. All the deep gashes formed unusual pathways on the skin. They were being held together by thread stitches and several staples, which I had suspected from the pain alone. I slid the IV needle under the stitches and proceeded to rip each and every one out. The staples tore away chunks of skin with them, red liquid splashing out.

I managed to remove eight stitches before the room was flooded with medics. They stared at the crying nurse who stood at my bedside, trembling violently from fright, her face and glasses speckled with red. As one unit, they brought their attention to me.

A gruff-looking man was the first to speak, "Why?"

"Why?" I repeated in mock disbelief. With a large amount of effort, I spread my bloody, damaged arms open wide. Blood poured out onto the once-white sheets with each movement. I smiled at them in a deranged way and loudly proclaimed my reasoning. "Isn't it obvious? It's because I want to!"

At that, the swarm of medics attacked in an attempt to restrain me. I kicked and tried to flail my damaged arms as best as I could to keep them at bay. Needless to say, their sheer numbers overpowered me. The last thing I saw was the gruff medic grab a hypothermic needle from his pocket. I tried to avoid it, but I felt the prick of an injection through the sheets and into my upper leg. At that point, I stopped struggling as the extremely effective sedative took effect.

* * *

I don't know how much time passed before I woke up. Maybe a few days or a week. I don't know, but evidently it was long enough to earn the wrath of someone with no sense of patience. Or maybe the person just didn't have any patience towards me.

"Get your lazy ass up right now, brat!"

I tried to ignore the anger-fueled command, but it's difficult when someone is shouting at you in a small room.

"I said to get up! You've slept long enough!"

The roar was followed by a sharp tug of the sheets as I was uncovered. I finally opened my eyes, trying to see the face of the loudmouth in the room. Once again, I was restrained and couldn't even rub my eyes to clear my sight. I blinked several times before the person's face at last came into focus.

A blonde woman glared at her me, her arms folded over her ample chest. She tapped her high-heeled foot against the tile, creating an impatient tattoo.

"Well?" She demanded. "Are you going to get up or do I need to force you awake?"

I glared at her the best I could, trying to be as intimidating as possible. Admittedly, it's rather difficult when you're tightly restrained to a hospital bed. "What the hell do you want?"

Her eyes narrowed into a glare of her own, "Excuse me? Do you know who you're talking to?"

The woman did look familiar, but I wasn't completely sure who she was, "No. Should I?"

"My name is Tsunade. I was the Fifth Hokage of Konoha," she said.

"And?"

"And I'm going to kick your ass if you don't stop acting like a smart ass," Tsunade growled at me.

"As if I haven't heard that before," I retorted. "Why are you here?"

"I'm here to get to the bottom of this."

"Of what?"

"You. More specifically, why you're behaving like such a psychopath."

I snorted, "Well, don't you people already think I am one? Isn't that why I'm tied up and sedated most of the time?"

Tsunade glared, "No, actually. At least not at first. But after that little 'episode' you had three days ago, I would say that's the general consensus around here."

I sat up a little straighter, annoyed. "And why do you care what happens around here? Aren't you supposed to be enjoying your retirement from being Hokage?"

"I care because I'm in charge of this hospital and I do not need some snot-nosed, former criminal brat scaring my employees half to death!" Tsunade said, balling her fists. "Do you realize how much you freaked that poor girl out? She already sent me her letter of resignation."

"So what?" I asked, not caring. If that nurse couldn't handle one bout of my planned craziness, then she was obviously in the wrong field of work. After all, I'm pretty sure there are crazy people in just about every hospital there is.

Tsunade sighed in exasperation, "I guess that's it, then. You just don't care about anyone, do you?"

I opened my mouth to utter a smart-ass remark, but Tsunade stopped me. Her anger suddenly changed to sorrow, perhaps even pity. It surprised me, but what she said was even more unexpected, "Do you even care about yourself anymore?"

I didn't know what to say. Without meaning to, my gaze flitted down to my heavily bandaged arms.

Tsunade continued, watching me. "Sasuke, the reason why you were restrained and on sedatives is not because anyone thought you were crazy. It's because everyone thought you would try to hurt yourself again and..." she trailed off.

I felt a sudden pit of dread in my stomach, but prompted her to finish her sentence, "And what?"

"Everyone thought you were going to kill yourself."

I blinked, not understanding. "I wasn't trying to kill myself. Why would anyone think that?"

"Sasuke, open your eyes! Look at what you've done to yourself!" Tsunade yelled at me, a mix of anger and pity in her eyes. "You purposely cut your own femoral artery! The only reason why you didn't die from exsanguination is because Sakura was there to call for help."

I knew what I had been doing that night when Sakura came over, but my intention had not been to kill myself. In fact, the thought had never once occurred to me. "I wasn't trying to kill myself," I said again. Even to my own ears, I sounded unconvincing.

Tsunade shook her head, "You didn't see the blood on the floor, Sasuke. You didn't see how terrified Sakura was when emergency services picked you up. You still don't realize the extent of the damage you did to yourself," she paused, watching me carefully. "I healed your cut artery, Sasuke. It was difficult, but necessary to keep you alive."

"Hn," I replied, sounding indifferent. I was, however, actually surprised by her admission. After the way she had woken me up, I thought she hated me.

"I wasn't expecting a thank you or anything, but I at least thought you'd have more of a reaction than that," she said. "You're either severely in denial about what's going on with you or you just don't care anymore."

"I am not in denial about anything," I snapped. "I never once lied about anything I've done to myself."

Tsunade raised an eyebrow, "Just because you haven't lied about it doesn't make it okay."

I glared.

She continued, voice firm, "And if you were really as confident as you sound about everything that happened, you wouldn't have hid the scars for so long."

For a moment, I stayed quiet, thinking the former Hokage was right. I had spent a lot of time and effort trying to hide all my scars. Even in prison, I hid them. I felt as though I had to hide them regardless of where I was. They have always seemed like something that needed to be hidden, but why? Shame seemed like the most reasonable rationality, but the more I thought about it, I wondered if that was really it. In all my years of living thus far, I've never really been totally ashamed of anything I've done. Sure, a bit remorseful, but ashamed? Not that I can recall. Besides, I've always been told I'm arrogant or prideful, and shame seems to be the opposite of those two.

With this fresh in mind, I spoke, "You seem to be implying that I am ashamed of the fact that I am a cutter."

"Well, aren't you? You never willing let anyone know about what you were doing."

"That's true," I admitted. "But has it ever occurred to you that I didn't tell anybody just because it wasn't any of their business? What I do to my body is nobody's business but my own. That's why I didn't tell anyone."

Tsunade gave me a rueful smile, "Do you realize that is a wonderful example of what it sounds like when someone is in denial and can't admit they need help?"

Her tone irritated me. She sounded like a parent scolding a stubborn child in a supposedly gentle way. Really, it just sounded patronizing. "I don't need help."

"You do."

"No, I don't. I'm fine."

"You aren't brat."

"I'm fine," I insisted, completely losing what little patience I had left. My voice rose add I tried to get my point across to the thick-skulled woman, "And even if I did help, what makes you think that you could help me? You can't. No one can. No one knows what I've had to deal with, and even if they did, it wouldn't matter!"

"Why?" Tsunade asked calmly.

"Because nobody understands what it's like to be me! There's no one here who can even begin to understand me!" My throat felt raw from yelling and I could faintly taste blood.

Tsunade was silent for several moments. She looked at me for a while and walked to the door, her high heels clicking against the tile with each step. When she reached the closed door, she put her hand on the knob, preparing to leave.

But she didn't.

Instead, she met my eyes once more, "Sasuke, the point of a hospital is to help people. As someone who works in one, that is my duty. In fact, I've put my very life on the line to help others," she said, her hand tightening around the door knob, "I've been a medic for longer than most people in the village have been alive. Because of that, I've learned many things, but perhaps the most important is that no matter how much I want to help someone, it's useless if they don't want to be helped. You can't force someone to accept your help. It just doesn't work that way."

Tsunade turned the handle and pulled the door open, "You said nobody can help you because they don't understand you, isn't that right?"

I nodded.

"Then, I'm sorry, Sasuke. I'm sorry that nobody can help you."

With that, she left through the door and was gone.

* * *

Four days passed by with an agonizing slowness. I spent them silently, not causing any more trouble for the hospital staff. I didn't scare any of the nurses who came to change my bandages nor did I insult the orderly who could not remember my name. I did nothing, just sat there chained to my bed.

When food was offered to me, I turned it down. My stomach rumbled violently at first, but after the third day, it was silent too. I still drank water, though. Death by dehydration did not appeal to me in the slightest so I did what I had to. Eating, however, seemed less important.

Naturally, the nurses tried their best to encourage me to eat but I politely refused them all. Doctors came in too, telling me how I needed nutrients so my body could heal properly. I ignored them. Healing wasn't important to me anymore, but I'm not sure if it ever had mattered to me.

As I sat there, hour after hour, I reflected on what Tsunade had told me about how everyone thought I would commit suicide. At first, I was floored by how stupid the people in this village could be. What reason did they have to think I wanted to end my own life? Just because I was a cutter? It made no sense to me why anyone would link the two together. The more I thought about, the more disgusted I became with them all... until it dawned on me that perhaps it did make sense.

While I will admit that my intention was never to purposely take my own life, it did occur to me that it was indeed possible for it to happen. Every time I brought a sharp blade to my skin, I knew the risk I was taking... but I didn't care. If the injuries had become badly infected, I would have grown ill and died from that, but I wouldn't have cared. To me, my life no longer mattered. It simply wasn't worth living any longer. I just hadn't been able to realize it until now. Suicide was not my goal, but it seemed that I wasn't exactly opposed to it either.

The awareness of the extent of my indifference to my existence was surprising, to say the least. Until this point, I had thought that somewhere deep inside of me, I did want to be able to live out my life in relative normalcy. It obviously wasn't one of my strong desires, but still, I thought I had it. I guess not. I wonder if I ever did. Maybe I never cared but just didn't realize it until this point in my life.

_I have a life that I no longer value at all,_ I thought, closing my eyes. _There's no reason for these wounds to heal._

* * *

The sound of gentle knocking woke up me before I heard a voice, "Sasuke? Are you in there?"

My eyes snapped open at the sound, just as the newcomer opened the door. "What do you want, dobe?" I asked with a glare at the Hokage.

Naruto laughed nervously, entering the room and closing the door behind him. He stood by the foot of my bed, his eyes sweeping over me briefly before settling on a point several feet to the right of me, "I just wanted to see how you were doing," he said, not looking at me.

I focused my glare directly on him, "If you wanted to _see_ how I was doing, wouldn't it help if you were actually _looking_ at me?"

He smiled nervously, but still did not look at me, "Yeah. I guess you're right about that."

"Naruto?"

"What?"

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

He hesitated before answering, "Nothing. Why should there be?"

"You're acting weird," I answered, my annoyance making itself known. "Weirder than how you normally are."

Naruto laughed, but it lacked the usual mirth, "I'm okay, Sasuke. Really."

"Then why won't you look directly at me?"

Naruto did not respond. Instead, he looked at the floor, studying out as though it were the most interesting thing in the world.

"Damn it, dobe!" I finally snapped at him. "Look at me!"

"I can't."

"Why not?"

At last, Naruto met my eyes. Even at a distance, I could see the shimmer of unshed tears in his eyes, "Because it hurts me to see you like this, Sasuke."

I gaped at him, unsure of how to feel about his statement. Briefly, I remembered Sakura's claim about Naruto loving me more than her. Had she been telling the truth? I wasn't sure at the time, but now, it seemed like it was true. If it was, I didn't understand why. Why me?

"Um, Sasuke? Are you all right?" Naruto asked, looking concerned.

I wanted to nod or say yes, but before I could stop myself, I blurted out, "What the hell is wrong with you? Why should anything I do affect you? Are you insane?!"

Naruto looked stunned, but only for a second. His answer held no doubt or hesitation, "It's because you matter to me. Your life means a lot to me and - "

"My life should mean nothing to _you _of all people! Aren't you the reason why I got sent to prison? It's all _your _fault why I'm in this damn village and this stupid hospital!"

"My fault?" Naruto repeated in disbelief. "You're blaming me for this?"

"Isn't that obvious? Or have you become so stupid over the years that even the most obvious things are lost on you?" I spat out angrily. I wasn't mad at first, but all his talk of my life meaning something to him was just so absurd that it pissed me off. Why did he feel the need to lie about something like that?

Naruto didn't back down from my wrath, "Shut up, Sasuke! You don't know what you're talking about!"

"Then why don't you fill me in, _Hokage-sama_?" My voice dripped with sarcasm. "After all, you're _always _doing the right thing. Why not share your fine, upstanding reasoning with the most fucked up person in the village?"

Naruto ignored the attitude. "I brought you back so you could have a chance to live your life."

"Oh, and what a life it is!" I replied bitterly. "I'm confined to a hospital bed because everyone thinks I'm going to kill myself. Yeah, it's absolutely wonderful!"

"I don't care what anyone says or thinks," Naruto said, "I know that you weren't trying to kill yourself."

"And how do you know that?" I asked, voice low. "You act as though my life is so great, so worth living. Has it ever once occurred to you that it's not?"

"You're wrong. Your life _is _worth living. I just wish you would understand that."

At this, I laughed derisively at Naruto. I couldn't help myself. It was ridiculous how he was always so optimistic all the time. Foolishly so. He was unable to see things how they really are.

"Laugh all you want, Sasuke, but you know I'm right," Naruto said. "Even if you don't think so right now, your life is important, and it always will be. Just like it always has been."

"How can my life be important? Just look at it!" I shouted, "I've spent most of it seeking revenge on my own brother. I even killed him! I've killed some many people that I've lost track of them all. I've got the scars to remind me of what I've done. Those marks are proof of how little my life is really worth and now I don't even care whether I live or die anymore. It just doesn't matter to me at all!"

I expected the cold truth to startle or surprise Naruto. I thought he'd retaliate with a counter argument of his own. He didn't. Instead, he just stared at me as the tears he had been holding in finally escaped. They slid soundlessly down his cheeks before falling to the floor. For some reason, the sight reminded me of how the blood drops would fall from my self-inflicted wounds.

Naruto at last spoke, his voice quavering only slightly, "I knew it..."

"What are you talking about?"

"I knew about the cutting!" He furiously wiped away the wetness on his skin, "When you were in prison, the warden told me about what you were doing to yourself. I thought that you were only doing it because of your incarceration, but it still worried me day and night. That's the real reason why I released you. I hoped that once you were free, you would stop hurting yourself. But I was wrong." Naruto took a deep breath, perhaps trying to calm down enough to finish what he had to say, "Instead, things just got worse. You started punishing yourself every day for your freedom. All the cuts and scars on your body are there to match the ones in your heart and mind, aren't they? Your guilt about the past is now carved onto your skin as a reminder to you so you don't forget... so you can't ever forget!"

Eyes wide, I gazed at Naruto without blinking. I didn't know what else to do. In only a few short sentences, he had shown that he understood me perfectly. But how?

"How do you know all this?" I asked slowly.

Naruto smiled slightly, sadly. "Let me show you." He unzipped his orange jacket and tossed it to the floor before grabbing the hem of his black shirt and pulling it over his head.

"Dobe, what the hell are you- ?" I was right in the middle of demanding an explanation from him as to what he was doing, but as soon as I saw his skin, I stopped, astonished.

Upon his tanned skin were scars. Naruto's chest and arms were fully decorated with them. They were numerous, some larger than others, and formed an uneven pattern all over him, crisscrossing, swirling, and zigzagging here and there. But what I saw on his wrists really caught my attention. Very pale, straight lines. The scars of someone who had intentionally cut himself.

I gasped, letting out exactly what I was thinking. "You're just like me..."

"I guess I am, aren't I?" He sighed, "I only wish we had something else in common, like a favorite food or something."

I stared at him, unable to remove my gaze from his body, "What happened to you, Naruto?"

"Life," he answered with a shrug, that same sad smile still in place, "This is my life. Some have been a result of being a ninja for the past six years, and others because I was the Kyuubi vessel." He showed me the inside of his left arm, tracing a straight, pale, faint line that extended from his elbow down to his wrist. "You see that? I did that one myself."

"Why?"

"I thought I deserved it." He replied simply. "That was made when I was a kid. I hated my life. I hated myself too. Every single day, the villagers used to treat me like garbage. I was lucky on the days they ignored me, but usually I had to deal with their whispers, insults, and occasionally, violence. I got pushed around and beaten up twice, but I usually had to dodge a lot of rocks thrown my way." He tapped the top of his left shoulder, attracting my attention to a large, uneven, semi-circle shaped scar. Obviously he had been hit by those rocks at some point.

Naruto continued, "At the time, I didn't know about Kyuubi and what he had done to Konoha. I didn't know that he was sealed within me. I thought that I was hated for no reason and extremely unlucky to be alive. I began to hate myself too, and so I started to cut myself, trying to punish myself for even existing at all," he paused, remembering, "I only did it a few times, though."

"Why did you stop?" I whispered. If I were in his shoes at the time, I don't know if I would have been able to at all. Not after everything he had went through, day after agonizing day.

"One day, I took things a bit too far. I kept bleeding and bleeding. I thought for sure I was going to die, but to tell you the truth, I almost welcomed it. At least if I was dead, I wouldn't have to deal with the villagers anymore. But it didn't happen. The bleeding stopped," he lightly traced a finger over one of the scars, before trailing it down to his abdomen, right over the black spiral of the Kyuubi's seal. "I didn't know it at the time, but the Kyuubi didn't allow it to happen. He healed me before things got too bad because if I were to die, so would he. Of course, since I didn't even know about his existence, I believed that the reason I didn't die was because I wasn't supposed to. That made me think that despite the villagers' treatment of me, I was worth something and more importantly, my life was worth living."

"I still have the scars from that time. Normally, Kyuubi heals things perfectly, but he didn't fix those. Probably as a reminder of what I had done to myself. All the later scars are mostly from fights I've been in. I asked Kyuubi not to heal those so I would always remember them too. I guess you can say they're a bit like trophies for me," he grinned at me, his eyes lighting up as they met mine, "Want to know which scar is my favorite?"

I merely nodded.

"It's this one," Naruto pointed to a jagged circle right near his heart. "This is the scar you gave me from our fight at the Valley of the End."

I gave him a questioning look, not understanding. "Why do you like it so much?"

"I know. It sounds weird, but it's important to me," Naruto's smile became a little happier as he spoke. "It helped me realize something. Something about scars."

"What was it?"

Naruto left the foot of the bed and went to my bedside. His hands found the restraints on my wrists and he slowly began pulling at the straps that held me in place, untying them. He leaned over me and untied my other wrist too before he met my eyes and spoke confidently, "I learned that scars don't have as much power over us as we think they do. Sometimes we allow ourselves to let the scars affect how we feel about ourselves and the world around us. That's a mistake." Naruto leaned a bit closer to me, his eyes clear and focused, "Sasuke, even though I have scars from battle, the villagers' treatment, and even you, I have never let them affect how I feel about any of those things. I love being a ninja. I love being Hokage and looking after the villagers... and above all, I love you, Sasuke. No matter how many scars I get, my feelings won't change."

I didn't get the chance to react before Naruto grabbed me, hugging me. "Please, Sasuke. Don't punish yourself anymore. Let the pain go. Allow yourself to heal."

At that moment, I wanted desperately to push him away, to lie and scream at him that I was just fine. But I didn't. I couldn't. At once, all the guilt over Itachi and everything I had ever done rushed at me. The overwhelming sorrow and pain made my heart ache. It made me wonder if it would kill me right then and there.

"Just let it out, Sasuke." Naruto said softly.

At his gentle prompt, the long-repressed tears finally escaped. Violent tremors wracked my body as I cried bitterly on Naruto, digging my nails into his back as I squeezed him closer to me. In my mind, I replayed moments of happiness spent with my family; my mother's warm embraces, my father's approval of my growing skill, but mostly, I saw Itachi. I remembered Itachi's smile as he spoke to me about various things, everything from proper technique while throwing shuriken to a joke he thought he'd share with me. Finally, I remembered the day he died, how he had worn that same smile even in death.

"I don't deserve to heal!" I sobbed into Naruto's chest, hot tears dripping down my face and barely able to form coherent words. "Why should I keep living while he died?"

"That's exactly why you need to."

I didn't understand, but Naruto continued, "You're alive, Sasuke. You need to keep on living _because_ you're alive. All the scars and pain in the world won't change that. Stop punishing yourself for living. Instead, let yourself heal so you can live without all the pain. That's the true reason to heal," he said. "Don't do it for me, Sakura, Itachi, or anyone else. Do it for yourself."

My once-violent sobs began to subside into uneven sniffles as Naruto's words sunk in. I pulled away from him, but just enough to look at him. My tears had made my vision blurry, but even then, I could still make out his warm smile, the strength in his blue eyes. He reached out and touched my face, hands on my cheeks. He used both of his thumbs to wipe away the tears, clearing my sight. "You need to heal, Sasuke."

My breaths came in irregular puffs as I spoke, trying to recover from the crying episode. For the first time in what felt like forever, I answered truthfully, "I don't know if I can."

"Then I'll help you," Naruto said kindly. "I'll be here for you as long as you want to be."

I wanted to believe him. I really did. "Then promise me."

"I promise you, Sasuke. I will stay by your side as long as you need me to and not a moment less."

I didn't know if he really meant it or not, but I felt better. Hopeful, almost. I pushed Naruto's hands away from my face. He opened his mouth to ask why, but instead, I covered his mouth with my own, kissing him deeply. Naruto stiffened briefly in what I assume was shock, but he recovered quickly and kissed me back. I'm not sure why I did it, but it felt like it was the right thing to do.

When my lungs began to burn from the lack of oxygen, we finally separated.

"What was... that?" Naruto managed to ask, a blush on his cheeks.

"I was just sealing the promise with a kiss," I answered evenly, despite the unusual feeling inside of me. At Naruto's kiss, I felt warmth inside of me, like a fire. It was hot, but strangely soothing... and inviting.

"Oh." Naruto still looked bewildered, but he smiled nonetheless. "I meant what I said earlier. Believe it."

"Hn." I really wanted to believe him, more than anything else I've ever wanted. But I didn't know if I could actually do it.


End file.
